SYRIA'S LATEST BATTLE: THE PR FIGHT OVER SANCTUARY FOR CHRISTIANS
The Christian Science Monitor
April 7, 2014 Monday
Since taking over the Armenian town of Kessab, the Syrian opposition
has tried to show it, too, can protect minorities. The regime is
determined to disrupt the effort.
Martin Armstrong Contributor
When the Syrian opposition took over the Armenian-Christian town of
Kessab in coastal Syria last month, its 2,000 residents fled. Given
the presence of Al Qaeda-linked Jabhat al-Nusra and other Islamist
groups, they feared the worst for their town.
So far, these fears have not been realized. Instead, rebels appear
to be using Kessab as an opportunity to try to undo their reputation
for extreme brutality towards Syria's Christians and Shiites. But the
Assad regime, which considers itself the protector of minorities,
has launched a media campaign to demonstrate how Islamists are
terrorizing Christians in Kessab, turning the town into a public
relations battlefield in Syria's civil war.
Christians' fears of the armed opposition have been stoked by events
such as the Hatla massacre, in which at least 30 Shiite villagers
were killed, and by snapshots of life under the control of extremist
groups: strict Islamist doctrine, public beheadings of "infidels,"
and the alleged levying of a jizya, or protection tax, on some
Christian communities by the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant,
an Al Qaeda-linked militant group.
Seizing on this reputation, the regime has flooded social media with
shocking images of death and desecration of Shiite and Christian
religious sites lifted from other events during the three-year-long
war. Regime loyalists have even distributed a 2005 horror film called
"Internal Damnation" to give the impression that a sectarian massacre
took place.
The Syrian opposition has been quick to present its own narrative.
Pro-opposition media have released videos of rebels helping elderly
Kessab residents unable to flee regime airstrikes, and protecting local
churches. Ahmed Jarba, the leader of the Syrian National Coalition,
visited the town recently to demonstrate the opposition's willingness
to protect the population.
The opposition-aligned Syrian Christians for Democracy called on US
lawmakers to launch an inquiry into the regime's "systematic abuse
of the Christian community," claiming that Syrian Armenians have been
forcibly conscripted to fight with the regime.
Kessab remains in the hands of the opposition, which has pushed on
to other parts of coastal Syria.
"As Armenians, we are not interested in the war of information that
is taking place. Different parties have used the situation in Kessab
to promote their own agendas," says Father Paul Haidostian, head of
the Haigazian University in Beirut.
The Turkey factor
History weighs heavily on Kessab's Armenians, whose presence in the
town and the surrounding valley dates back to the 12th century. During
the 1915 massacre, in which 1.5 million Armenians were killed,
residents of the town, then under Ottoman jurisdiction, were deported
to the deserts of Deir al-Zour, near the Iraqi border, and Jordan.
Close to 5,000 people reportedly died. The survivors returned to
Kessab by the 1920s.
The recent displacement is upsetting partially because of its
familiarity, even if there is no evidence of violence, says Hagop
Khatcherian, secretary general of the Lebanese-Armenian Tashnag Party,
who recently traveled to Syria to assess the needs of the displaced.
The majority of the town's population has found safe haven in the
coastal regime-controlled city of Latakia, despite Turkey's proximity.
Around 80 families made their way to Lebanon, finding refuge with
relatives in Beirut and the Armenian town of Anjar in the Bekaa Valley.
Some Kessab residents now in Beirut say the opposition's ground
assault was preceded by an artillery bombardment launched from inside
Turkey. Armenian media outlets have reported that the fighters passed
through Turkish military barracks en route to Kessab, which is less
than one mile from the border.
Both claims suggest a degree of Turkish complicity that has aggravated
old wounds among Armenians and bred distrust of the opposition,
given the bad blood between Armenians and Turkey, the modern state
that emerged from the Ottoman Empire.
Last week Turkish Foreign Minister Ahmet Davutoglu released a statement
saying those displaced from Kessab were welcome in Turkey, which has
already welcomed hundreds of thousands of Syrian Sunnis.
But Harout Yerganian, former head of the Lebanese Armenian Ramgavar
Party, found the message insulting. "When my grandmother was deported
during the genocide, a Turkish officer ripped out her left earring
and stole it," he says. "I remember the scar when I was growing up."
A childhood swim
Mego Apanian, an Armenian who grew up in Kessab, is sheltering his
aunt and uncle in Beirut. "They are in shock," he says. "They don't
know if they will have homes to go back to."
In a cafe in the Beirut's Armenian neighborhood of Bourj Hammoud,
Apanian recalls his childhood in Kessab.
"When we were young, we used to go down to the beach in al-Samra,
below Kessab, to swim. The Syrian side was very rocky but the Turkish
side was sandy and more desirable," he says. Syrian border guards
would allow the swimmers to cross into Turkey, while watching them
with binoculars.
"If the Turkish border patrol came, they would shout and we would
run back to the Syrian side. We grew up with this fear and distrust
of Turkey."
Despite its public relations campaign, the opposition is weighed
down not only by its own record of targeting minorities but also its
assistance from Turkey.
"Everyone knew the Assad regime was totalitarian, but the Armenian
community was treated okay. The extremist groups in the opposition
have made too many mistakes. There was no massacre, but the people
of Kessab have had their peaceful, traditional way of life ripped
away from them," Yergenian says.
The Christian Science Monitor
April 7, 2014 Monday
Since taking over the Armenian town of Kessab, the Syrian opposition
has tried to show it, too, can protect minorities. The regime is
determined to disrupt the effort.
Martin Armstrong Contributor
When the Syrian opposition took over the Armenian-Christian town of
Kessab in coastal Syria last month, its 2,000 residents fled. Given
the presence of Al Qaeda-linked Jabhat al-Nusra and other Islamist
groups, they feared the worst for their town.
So far, these fears have not been realized. Instead, rebels appear
to be using Kessab as an opportunity to try to undo their reputation
for extreme brutality towards Syria's Christians and Shiites. But the
Assad regime, which considers itself the protector of minorities,
has launched a media campaign to demonstrate how Islamists are
terrorizing Christians in Kessab, turning the town into a public
relations battlefield in Syria's civil war.
Christians' fears of the armed opposition have been stoked by events
such as the Hatla massacre, in which at least 30 Shiite villagers
were killed, and by snapshots of life under the control of extremist
groups: strict Islamist doctrine, public beheadings of "infidels,"
and the alleged levying of a jizya, or protection tax, on some
Christian communities by the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant,
an Al Qaeda-linked militant group.
Seizing on this reputation, the regime has flooded social media with
shocking images of death and desecration of Shiite and Christian
religious sites lifted from other events during the three-year-long
war. Regime loyalists have even distributed a 2005 horror film called
"Internal Damnation" to give the impression that a sectarian massacre
took place.
The Syrian opposition has been quick to present its own narrative.
Pro-opposition media have released videos of rebels helping elderly
Kessab residents unable to flee regime airstrikes, and protecting local
churches. Ahmed Jarba, the leader of the Syrian National Coalition,
visited the town recently to demonstrate the opposition's willingness
to protect the population.
The opposition-aligned Syrian Christians for Democracy called on US
lawmakers to launch an inquiry into the regime's "systematic abuse
of the Christian community," claiming that Syrian Armenians have been
forcibly conscripted to fight with the regime.
Kessab remains in the hands of the opposition, which has pushed on
to other parts of coastal Syria.
"As Armenians, we are not interested in the war of information that
is taking place. Different parties have used the situation in Kessab
to promote their own agendas," says Father Paul Haidostian, head of
the Haigazian University in Beirut.
The Turkey factor
History weighs heavily on Kessab's Armenians, whose presence in the
town and the surrounding valley dates back to the 12th century. During
the 1915 massacre, in which 1.5 million Armenians were killed,
residents of the town, then under Ottoman jurisdiction, were deported
to the deserts of Deir al-Zour, near the Iraqi border, and Jordan.
Close to 5,000 people reportedly died. The survivors returned to
Kessab by the 1920s.
The recent displacement is upsetting partially because of its
familiarity, even if there is no evidence of violence, says Hagop
Khatcherian, secretary general of the Lebanese-Armenian Tashnag Party,
who recently traveled to Syria to assess the needs of the displaced.
The majority of the town's population has found safe haven in the
coastal regime-controlled city of Latakia, despite Turkey's proximity.
Around 80 families made their way to Lebanon, finding refuge with
relatives in Beirut and the Armenian town of Anjar in the Bekaa Valley.
Some Kessab residents now in Beirut say the opposition's ground
assault was preceded by an artillery bombardment launched from inside
Turkey. Armenian media outlets have reported that the fighters passed
through Turkish military barracks en route to Kessab, which is less
than one mile from the border.
Both claims suggest a degree of Turkish complicity that has aggravated
old wounds among Armenians and bred distrust of the opposition,
given the bad blood between Armenians and Turkey, the modern state
that emerged from the Ottoman Empire.
Last week Turkish Foreign Minister Ahmet Davutoglu released a statement
saying those displaced from Kessab were welcome in Turkey, which has
already welcomed hundreds of thousands of Syrian Sunnis.
But Harout Yerganian, former head of the Lebanese Armenian Ramgavar
Party, found the message insulting. "When my grandmother was deported
during the genocide, a Turkish officer ripped out her left earring
and stole it," he says. "I remember the scar when I was growing up."
A childhood swim
Mego Apanian, an Armenian who grew up in Kessab, is sheltering his
aunt and uncle in Beirut. "They are in shock," he says. "They don't
know if they will have homes to go back to."
In a cafe in the Beirut's Armenian neighborhood of Bourj Hammoud,
Apanian recalls his childhood in Kessab.
"When we were young, we used to go down to the beach in al-Samra,
below Kessab, to swim. The Syrian side was very rocky but the Turkish
side was sandy and more desirable," he says. Syrian border guards
would allow the swimmers to cross into Turkey, while watching them
with binoculars.
"If the Turkish border patrol came, they would shout and we would
run back to the Syrian side. We grew up with this fear and distrust
of Turkey."
Despite its public relations campaign, the opposition is weighed
down not only by its own record of targeting minorities but also its
assistance from Turkey.
"Everyone knew the Assad regime was totalitarian, but the Armenian
community was treated okay. The extremist groups in the opposition
have made too many mistakes. There was no massacre, but the people
of Kessab have had their peaceful, traditional way of life ripped
away from them," Yergenian says.